


Born for Adversity

by broadwanime



Series: Role Reversal Series [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 03:25:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broadwanime/pseuds/broadwanime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And, above everything else, Gabriel knew that he had to protect his little brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Born for Adversity

**Author's Note:**

> Third in Role Reversal Series.

_“A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.” (Proverbs 17:17)_

There are things you learn as a kid, facts that you know with absolute certainty to be true. Even as you grow older, these things don’t change. The sun rises in the east, sets in the west. A circle is round; a square is not. Nine comes after ten, and red and blue make purple. Little things like that.

By the time Gabriel was ten years old, he knew that holy water and garlic warded off vampires, how to load and fire a shotgun. He knew that silver was good against werewolves but did nothing against a rugaru. He knew Uncle Bobby was a superhero and would always come home, even though Mommy and Daddy never would. And, above everything else, Gabriel knew that he had to protect his little brother.

His ‘uncle’ didn’t think he remembered that night. Bobby thought maybe the trauma blocked it from his mind. Of course, it hadn’t. The universe is not nearly so kind as T.V. might have you believe.

It was a Sunday. He remembered because his mother got all flustered making sure they looked nice for church. Cassy didn’t have to worry about a suit or anything, ‘cause he was just a baby. Gabriel wasn’t so lucky. He had to wear uncomfortable shoes and a little black tie that his mother always made too tight. At least his father always loosened it for him.

The service flew by like it always did, coloring books on the pews and cinnamon tic-tacs after communion. The rest of the day was a blur. Maybe they played on the playground for a while, or maybe his mother stopped at the grocery store and his father pushed him around in a little toy car cart. Gabriel honestly couldn’t remember anything clearly, not until nine o’clock at night when his mother tucked him into bed.

She came in just after he’d finished his evening prayers. She’d wrapped her robe tight around her nightgown and smiled as he asked God to get Mommy that coffeemaker she wanted, and for Cassy to grow up big and strong like him. It was the last time he’d ever prayed.

Gabriel hopped to his feet and slipped into bed, his face shining expectantly. His mother shook her head and moved towards him. She’d slid the Superman blankets until they were right under his chin, just the way she always did. Her long hair tickled his cheek when she kissed his forehead, and Gabriel squirmed and complained appropriately. He didn’t really mind, of course. He never minded as much as he said he did. His nightlight glowed in the corner as his eyes drifted shut, his mother’s too-sweet voice wishing him goodnight.

Gabriel wished he’d thought to tell her he loved her.

He woke to his father’s arms around him, hefting him against his chest with Castiel snug between them. His brother was whimpering, unhappy to be pulled away from his crib. Gabriel wasn’t too pleased, either. He’d just been having the most wonderful dream where he was Clark Kent, speeding past buildings and saving damsels – whatever those were. He whined and wriggled, but that only made his father tighten his hold.

“Have to hide you,” he muttered. “Somewhere… Please, somewhere…”

Gabriel found himself shoved into the closet under the stairs. His body was squashed in the corner between his father’s winter coats and old board games, the dry smell of dust and cobwebs tickling his nose. Castiel was thrust unceremoniously into his arms, swaddled in his night sky blankie. His father knelt before them, and it was only then that Gabriel noticed the tears streaking his cheeks.

“D-Daddy?” he whispered.

His father choked, his wide, red-rimmed eyes darting behind him before he turned back to his two sons. “Stay here. Don’t come out until…” He swallowed thickly and rubbed at his throat. Gabriel didn’t understand the thick, coppery red that painted his fingertips, soaked through his knees and smeared across his shirt. It was slick and everywhere, and Gabriel didn’t understand what it was and why his father shoved him in a closet and why he was crying, and it scared him. His lip trembled.

“Daddy?” he tried again, trudging a tiny, frightened step forward.

His father shook his head desperately. “Don’t come out. Look out for Castiel.” He cupped Gabriel’s face, dragging warm, wet digits along his tiny jaw. “I love you. Mommy… Mommy loved you, too.” He bit his lip until it turned white and rose up from his knees. “Don’t come out,” he begged. “Look out for Castiel.”

The darkness overwhelmed them and Gabriel tried to figure out why his father used the past tense.

Castiel whined against him, kicking his feet into his big brother’s chest. Gabriel shushed him, bounced him as much as his small arms could. Apparently, Castiel wasn’t feeling too cooperative as he continued to wriggle and whimper. Gabriel shushed him again.

“It’s gonna be okay, Cassy,” he whispered shakily. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Suddenly, there was a loud crash above them, the sound of glass breaking and something heavy collapsing at the top of the stairs. There was some rustling, and then, whatever it was started to thump down each step. Thump, thump, THUMP, until it landed just outside the closet door.

Heavy footfalls started down the stairs. Gabriel swallowed and rocked his brother. He wished his mother were here. He started to sing a lullaby under his breath, though he wasn’t sure whom it was he was trying to comfort.

“Hushaby, baby, on the treetop…”

The steps grew louder, closer. Castiel whimpered and Gabriel shook all over.

“When the wind blows, the cradle will rock…”

The footsteps stopped outside the door. A chill worked its way up his spine.

“When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall…”

The smell of rotten eggs overwhelmed his senses. He could see a shadow creeping under the doorframe and he prayed, oh, how he prayed it was his father. He knew it wasn’t.

“And down will come baby…”

The handle clicked as it slowly, ever so slowly turned. Frightened tears trickled down Gabriel’s cheeks and he clutched his brother tightly.

“Cradle and…”

The sound of gunshots rattled his eardrums. The door swung open on its hinges and there was Uncle Bobby, panting and wild-eyed with a shotgun clutched in his hands.

Gabriel wasn’t looking at him, though. He was looking at the place just behind him where his father lay battered and broken with his neck twisted all the way around. Gabriel finally understood what all the red was.

“Don’t look, boy!” Bobby shouted. “Don’t look!” He dropped the shotgun and wrapped his arms tight around Gabriel and Castiel both, just like their father had moments ago and like he never would again. As Bobby raced out the door, Gabriel stared at the thick, grey smoke coming from upstairs. It was easier to look at than the blood-stained carpet than the body of his father.

There was the crash of broken glass and then heat, unbelievable heat eating away at Gabriel’s home, his father, his mother, his everything.

Gabriel never forgot any of that night, not ever. His father’s last words haunted him like it was an order from a God he no longer believed in. “Look out for Castiel.”

And that’s exactly what he did, right up until the stupid sonuvabitch sold his soul.


End file.
